


Handling Snakes

by potter_loves_malfoy



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Draco Malfoy in Glasses, Draco Malfoy in the Muggle World, Epistolary, Exposure therapy, H/D Fan Fair 2019, Herpetologist Harry Potter, Hopeful Ending, M/M, POV Alternating, Parselmouth Harry Potter, Pierced Harry Potter, Post-Hogwarts, Pre-Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter, Psychologist Draco Malfoy, Secondary Theme: Pet Fair, Sexy Harry Potter, Snake Breeder Harry Potter, Snakes, Tattooed Harry Potter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-03
Updated: 2019-12-03
Packaged: 2020-11-28 06:07:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,074
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20961722
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/potter_loves_malfoy/pseuds/potter_loves_malfoy
Summary: Draco Malfoy is content with his life as a psychologist in the Muggle world. Sure, the tube is a nightmare, and it would be nice to use magic without worrying about being discreet, but it’s good for the most part. When he starts treating a client for their fear of snakes, he realizes that his safe, comfortable, Muggle life won’t be that way for long. It really doesn't help that he might have a slight aversion to snakes. There's no avoiding it now; he needs Harry Potter.Only for his snakes, of course.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> For Prompt #[48](https://docs.google.com/document/d/16er_sVwwFtbVQxtiFqHRWhw09kwNYhywsB-R48qtVPU/edit#).
> 
> Working on this fic was a hell of a journey. There was so much I wanted to do with it that I never got around to doing, because my life is a bit of a mess. But here it is! I hope I did this amazing prompt justice, it was super fun to work on. So thank you for this prompt!
> 
> Thank you to my Alpha L and my Beta C I couldn't have done any of this without you guys!
> 
> Just another quick note, there are some letter images that I have provided transcripts of at the end notes of every chapter, courtesy of my alpha L, for your reading convenience.

🐍DRACO🐍

Not many people that knew him when he was a spoiled child would expect to see Draco like this; riding the tube on his way to his job at a _Muggle_ counselling clinic, cramped between a large man wearing a t-shirt way too tight on him and an old lady that frankly smells like she’s _maybe_ showered once in the past month; Thinking he would quite certainly lose his footing and topple on someone, if not for the stabilization charm he discreetly cast on himself when he first walked in.

It doesn’t really matter what people would expect of him though, or rather, it shouldn’t. This has been Draco’s reality for almost 20 years now, ever since everyone in The Wizarding World started seeing him as an irredeemable war criminal. It _doesn’t _matter. Draco’s perfectly content with the small portion of The Wizarding World that he does still have access to. He’s _perfectly_ fine just having his weekly Friday lunches with Pansy, sometimes even at Diagon––under a glamour, of course––and his Sunday brunches with mother. Greg writes from France sometimes, he still gets _The Daily Prophet_ delivered every day even though it’s a load of bollocks and he’s been allowed to do magic since three years after the war ended. He has a good routine going. Except now he’s certain that he’s going to ruin it.

The mechanical voice on the tube announces the next station, pulling Draco away from his thoughts for a moment. He’s been putting off sending _him _the owl for the past couple of days. Okay, maybe it’s been a week. He knows he has to contact _him, _he’s very much the only person that can help Draco with this. And it’s not even for personal reasons, is it? Draco’s doing this for his client, he needs _him_. For his client, of course. There’s not even a hair on his body that wants to do this for personal reasons. To see him.

He gets off the train, holding out his arms to avoid any of his coffee spilling onto his suit. He steps outside the station, and his glasses are immediately littered with raindrops, blocking his view just enough to be a nuisance. He really should learn how to _Impervius_ his glasses wandless, or at least start doing that in the loo before leaving the station. But right now his wand is buried deep in his satchel, and his hands are full and he’s just going to have to deal with having water on his lenses for the next 2 blocks.

He finally gets to the building and greets the receptionist in the lobby before heading towards the lift.

“Good morning, Draco,” Adelaide, the receptionist for the clinic, greets warmly as soon as he steps off the lift and into their office.

“Good morning, Adelaide,” Draco says with a small smile, putting down his coffee at the front desk to remove his glasses.

“Raining outside?” she asks, smiling in a way that accentuates the wrinkles around her eyes.

Draco gives her a curt nod. “My first appointment isn’t for two more hours, yes?”

“I believe so, but I will check that for you right away,” she says, typing away at the computer. “Your appointment with Mx Hadley is at eleven o’clock. And your one o’clock has cancelled.”

“Thank you, Adelaide. I’ll be in my office, should you need me for anything. Although I do have some work I need to get done so please see to it that I don’t get disturbed unless absolutely necessary.”

He turns around with a flourish and heads to the dark oak door that says “D. MALFOY, PSYCHOLOGIST” in crisp gold lettering. Upon opening the door, he finds Cassiopeia, his barn owl standing on the side of his desk.

“Hello, Cassiopeia, I hope your journey here was more pleasant than mine this morning.”

Cassiopeia squawks.

Draco lets out a sigh, depositing his satchel, coffee cup and glasses on the desk. He shrugs off his coat and sits down, putting his head in his hands. He needs someone that knows about snakes and can provide snakes for his sessions with Sky. And no magical herpetologist or snake breeder in the UK was willing to work with him. Most of them hadn’t bothered to respond to his owl and the ones that did… Well, they had less than kind words to say. He was his last hope. Letting out a deep breath, he sits up straighter and picks up a sheet of paper from his desk drawer. Picking out his favourite fountain pen, he begins to write.

> _Potter,_
> 
> _<strike>It pains me to write this.</strike> I’m afraid I require your help. I have a client that is afraid of snakes, and we’re trying exposure therapy. In case you don’t_ _know what exposure therapy is, it is a very common and effective way of overcoming phobias, by exposing the client to the source of fear in increments. So, in this instance, we started out looking at pictures of snakes in our first session while there was a plastic snake on the table between us. We will move on to videos today and I’ll ask them to hold the plastic snake. Eventually, I would have them hold a real snake._ _We’re going to have to move on from pictures and videos to real snakes soon, if not next week, then the one after, and I have yet to find someone willing to work with me. <strike>Please, tell me that you can help.</strike> I hope that you will be willing to leave our history behind and help me,<strike> as you are my last hope.</strike> _
> 
> _Draco L. Malfoy_

Draco rewrites the letter, this time leaving out the parts that he struck out. He also decides to use his official name stamp along with this signature. He figures Potter might be more inclined to help if he sees that this isn’t some plot that Draco is devising but someone actually needing his professional help. He reads the letter through one more time and makes a couple of minor changes. 

Finally pleased with how it looks, he folds the letter as neatly as he can with how his hands are shaking and ties it with a ribbon after addressing it to Harry Potter. He ties the folded paper to Cassiopeia’s leg and sends her on her way, apologising for not having an address.

He dials reception on his phone and asks Adelaide for a strong cup of tea. Now all he can do is wait.

🐍🐍🐍

Potter’s response comes with Cassiopeia before the hour is out. Potter’s speedy response makes Draco almost sure that what he’s about to read is a rejection because Potter can’t have agreed to work with Draco so quickly, right? Draco unties the small scroll of parchment from Cassiopeia’s leg with shaking hands and feeds Cassiopeia an owl treat as he works on unrolling the scroll with his other hand.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DL1  
Potter,  
I’m afraid I require your help. I have a client that is afraid of snakes, and we’re trying exposure therapy. In case you don’t know what exposure therapy is, it is a very common and effective way of overcoming phobias, by exposing the client to the source of fear in increments. So, in this instance, we started out looking at pictures of snakes in our first session while there was a plastic snake on the table between us. We will move on to videos today and I’ll ask them to hold the plastic snake. Eventually, I would have them hold a real snake. We’re going to have to move on from pictures and videos to real snakes soon, if not next week, then the one after, and I have yet to find someone willing to work with me. I hope that you will be willing to leave our history behind and help me.  
DRACO L MALFOY  
PSYCHOLOGIST  
OAK COUNSELLING
> 
> HL1
> 
> Malfoy,  
I know what exposure therapy is.  
Come over to the shop when you can so we can discuss which snakes would be the best to have at your sessions.  
The address is 723 Knockturn Alley. I’ll be there until 8 tonight.  
Harry


	2. Chapter 2

🐍DRACO🐍

“It seems that our time is up, Sky. We made a lot of progress today. For our next session, you have two options, we can either continue with more videos or, if you’re feeling ready, I can ask my… associate to bring over something more real or realistic,” Draco says, hoping that Sky didn’t notice his hesitation at the word associate. Is that what Potter is to him now?

“What does something more real entail?”

Draco pauses, considering the best response to this. He doesn’t know what ideas Potter exactly had, or even if he happened to have any newborn snakes. Or the skin a small one sheds. Or a more realistic rubber snake. “I’m afraid I don’t really know yet, but it won’t be anything that wouldn’t fit in your palm.”

Sky hums, deliberating. “Could I say yes now and contact you a day or two before if I chicken out and ask for more videos?” they ask, giving Draco a sheepish smile.

“Of course,” Draco says with a comforting smile. “I’m meeting my associate today, so I will contact you as soon as I know what exactly ‘something more real’ means. In the meantime, if you do go to your girlfriend’s house, remember that a snake in a glass tank can only hurt you as much as a picture or a video can.”

Sky grabs their purse and flashes Draco another smile, before bidding him goodbye and leaving Draco alone with the words, _“I’m meeting my associate today”_ echoing in his mind. Because regardless of whether Potter qualified as an associate, Draco is indeed going to be meeting him. Today. _Merlin. _

Draco wonders if it would be too unprofessional to put some Firewhiskey in his tea, or better yet, some tea in his Firewhiskey.

🐍🐍🐍

Draco’s last appointment ends ten minutes later than it’s supposed to, at 18:40, and not a minute too soon. Draco thinks that he’s about to suggest Mr and Mrs Huckabee get a divorce as couples counselling might actually just not be working for them. Once Mr and Mrs Huckabee have calmed down enough to go out in public, Draco slumps down onto the sofa he normally reserves for his clients and takes his wand out from the pocket of his trousers to summon the bottle of Firewhiskey he’s been craving since before noon.

He takes his glasses off carefully placing them on the table by the sofa. He takes a long swig of the Firewhiskey, the liquid burning his throat on his way to Draco’s stomach. An owl flies in through the open window and lands by Draco’s head. Draco thinks it’s Cassiopeia first, then remembers that he sent her back home for the day. Draco turns his head slightly towards the bird, noting that it’s a gorgeous grey spotted owl, to see a scroll identical to the one from Potter this morning tied to its leg. Draco unties the scroll with a groan. The owl looks at Draco incredulously as Draco unfurls the parchment.

As if on cue, Draco feels a gentle peck on his hand the moment he lowers Potter’s letter. He _Accios_ the bag of treats for the owl. The owl immediately stuffs his head in the bag and true to Harry’s word, pulls out a squirrel-shaped treat after a couple of seconds of searching.

Taking another––larger–– sip of the Firewhiskey, Draco summons some paper and his pen from his desk and leans over the table to write his response.

He doesn’t bother tying the letter to the owl's leg; he’s heading there anyway. He tells Earl not to wait for his response and watches the owl fly away, another squirrel-shaped treat tucked in his beak. Draco walks over to his desk to take his jacket and bag, and also put the Firewhiskey back in the semi-hidden compartment under the desk. He leaves the office, with a curt goodbye at Adelaide.

He realizes that he forgot to put his glasses back on only when he walks outside and the London fog seems thicker and blurrier than usual. He walks to the alley behind the clinic and casts a slight adjustment charm on his eyes, not bothering to go back. With a sigh, he disapparates, picturing the apparition point in Knockturn Alley. It’s only when he’s standing in front of 723 Knockturn Alley, looking at Harry Potter rearranging what seems to be a variety of snacks and treats for reptiles, that Draco realizes he could’ve just apparated into his office and grabbed his glasses. It would’ve been easier than the adjustment charm he cast. He can actually still go back, he realizes, just when Potter turns around and fixes his eyes on Draco. Except now Potter’s seen him and… Oh, Merlin fuck, he’s Draco Malfoy, why is he so bloody scared of seeing Potter again?

He takes a deep breath, clutching at the letter he wrote Potter in his left hand, clears his throat and pushes the door open.

🐍🐍🐍

“Potter,” he greets, in the snobby voice he hasn’t _really_ used in years.

“Malfoy,” Potter replies coolly, giving Draco a smile that makes Draco feel queasy. Potter walks over to Draco in slow, confident strides. Now that Potter is closer, Draco can make out the details of his face._ He looks grown up, _he thinks dumbly, _and really fit_. He’s no longer wearing the hideous round glasses with the thick plastic frames. They’re still round, but they have thin metal frames, making him look a lot more modern _and attractive._ His glasses aren’t dissimilar to Draco’s own, Draco notes, Draco’s are just less round. He has more scars now too. There’s another one on his forehead, near the famous lightning bolt. It’s an old one, lighter than the skin around it. There are smaller ones all around his face, but they’re only really noticeable when you pay attention. He also has a piercing on his eyebrow, and another on his bottom lip. _A snakebite_, his mind supplies, he doesn’t know if it’s ironic or just clever. Draco’s eyes move down Potter’s body before he can stop them. Potter’s wearing a loose olive green shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. He has a tattoo of a snake wrapping itself around his left forearm. Draco’s eyes move lower to Potter’s legs clad in black denim.

Draco hears a throat being cleared and snaps his head back up to face Potter. The brow with the piercing tilts upward and Draco realizes that he’s been staring. For a very long time.

He chucks out the letter he wrote in response to Potter’s, feeling his cheeks heat up. “Here,” he says, because well, he hasn’t had a good fucking in almost a year and Potter’s too fit for his own good, and his stupid mind isn’t working and the best he can think to say is bloody _here_.

“What’s this?” Potter asks, straightening the letter out.

“Well, I wrote a response to your letter, since you care so much about proper etiquette.”

Potter’s lips quirk up as he reads the letter, and Draco feels like a huge idiot again. This was a bad idea. Writing a response to Potter’s letter when he was going to come over within 10 minutes was a mistake. Coming here tonight was a mistake. Contacting Potter was a mistake.

“My apologies for sending Earl. I just needed to know whether you would actually come or not. And since you’d already contacted me by owl I thought it would be safe to do so,” Potter says with a slight frown and Draco hates that he looks so genuine. The truth is, Potter’s being kind and calm and collected and somewhat professional, and Draco has no idea how to handle a Potter that’s all of that _and_ looks like a soft punk god.

“Never you mind, Potter,” he says dismissively. “Let’s get to work, shall we?” Draco says, looking around for a place to drop off his satchel and suit jacket. He walks up to a counter that seems safe enough and puts everything down.

“So, what can I do for you, Malfoy?” Potter says leaning against the pillar that has the leashes with his arms folded.

“I’m working with a client to help them overcome their ophidiophobia. They’re doing really well so far with the pictures, videos and plastic snakes but that hardly compares to being in the presence of a snake. So, anything that you think would be a step up from that, without being too far up from that would be useful.”

“Well, Nymph did just shed a layer of skin today, do you think that might work? I saved it in the back because I thought you might be interested. Other than that, I have an Asian vine snake back at the reserve whose eggs should be hatching soon.”

“May I see the shed skin? Is it big? Could I maybe use a portion of it?”

“Nymph is quite large, so naturally, the shed skin is also going to be quite large. Double her size, actually. It’s fascinating when you think of it because the shed skin covers the top and bottom of each scale–” he cuts himself off and Draco thinks he sees a faint blush forming on Potter’s cheek. “Sorry, you probably don’t care all that much. Anyway, I don’t see why we can’t cut up a section of it. And I can show you the skin, and Nymph herself, if you want to follow me to the back.”

“The snake is here?” Draco asks, hesitating. Maybe he should have mentioned to Potter that he himself isn’t… fond of snakes. “I thought you kept the snakes at a reserve.”

“I do,” Potter confirms. “But Nymph lives with me. She goes wherever I go unless I absolutely need to leave her home.” With that Potter turns around and heads toward the back of the store where it’s sectioned off with a black curtain.

“Potter,” Draco says warily, slowly following him to the back. “Just how big is she?”

“A metre thirty. Scared, Malfoy?”

Draco can practically hear Potter’s grin, and he doesn’t need a mirror to know he’s blushing. “You wish, Potter. Not scared, merely curious,” he says, hoping that he’s believable.

“Don’t worry, Malfoy, she’s only a git to people she already knows, so you have nothing to worry about now.”

“I’m not worried,” Draco grumbles under his breath and follows Potter beyond the curtain.

Multiple things happen at once.

Potter hisses and halts.

So Draco, not getting the memo about stopping, walks into Potter’s back. The collision catches him so off-guard that Draco almost falls on his arse but instinctively grabs Potter’s shoulder. Once he’s stable, Draco remembers his hand that’s currently squeezing Potter. He pulls his hand off as if it burns.

Then Potter hisses again, except this time it sounds different. Draco realizes a couple of seconds later that Potter is speaking parseltongue.

Potter steps to the side and turns part-way towards Draco, revealing a rather large snake that is red white and orange striped. Unable to stop himself, Draco jumps a little.

“This is Nymph,” Potter says, kneeling next to the snake holding out his right arm to let it crawl on him. “She’s an albino Honduran milk snake. Nine years old.” At that, the snake raises its head to look Potter square in the eyes and hisses.

“Sorry,” Potter says, looking as if he’s holding back a laugh. “She’s eight and a half.”

“She’s a bit sensitive about her age,” Potter mouths at Draco, standing up.

Draco’s most recent interaction with a snake was, frankly, not very recent at all, and quite harrowing. But Nymph doesn’t look like she has anything in common with Nagini… So, repressing his worries, Draco leans in closer to Nymph, who is now looking intently at Draco. “She’s gorgeous,” Draco says, without thinking. Because she really is. Her ‘splotches’ are individual scales that are coloured differently, and upon closer inspection, Draco realizes that the white is really more of a light pink. Potter makes some hissing noises at Nymph, and she responds, before turning back around to keep looking at Draco.

“She says thank you,” Potter says with a smile. Nymph hisses some more and Potter laughs. It’s one of those loud, carefree, genuine laughs. The kind of laugh you have when you don’t care who hears because you’re having so much fun. Draco doesn’t know if he’s ever laughed like that. It’s a nice sound. “She,” Potter starts, cutting himself off with another laugh. “She’s asking if you’re also an albino.”

Draco lets out a laugh, it’s mainly out of shock. “No, no I’m not. At least, not that I know of.”

Potter smiles a wide smile, before hissing at Nymph, possibly to translate for Draco.

“I didn’t know you still spoke parseltongue,” Draco says. “I mean, people were saying you lost the ability after, you know…”

“I don’t… speak it in front of people much,” Potter says, not looking at Draco, and even though Draco can’t see Potter’s face, he can tell that Potter’s smile has faltered. “It still reminds people a lot of Voldemort; it used to remind _me _of Voldemort. But then, I found Nymph left behind in an empty nest, trying to get out of her egg that just wasn’t cracked enough. Her mum must’ve thought her not strong enough to survive.”

“So, that’s how you started speaking it again.”

“So that’s how I started speaking it again,” Potter confirms. “I’d quit the Aurors recently too, so a pet turned into a passion which eventually turned into a job.”

“And the piercings and the tattoo came with the job description, I’m assuming,” Draco jokes and it’s sort of mad that he’s actually enjoying a conversation with Potter.

Potter smirks at that and puts Nymph on one of the nearby counters before responding. “Tattoos, actually,” Potter says. “And believe it or not I got the snakebite before I started handling any snakes.”

Without his blessing, Draco’s eyes move to Potter’s lips and fix on the little silver hoop that fits perfectly on the curve of Potter’s bottom lip. Draco then finds himself wondering what it would be like to kiss Potter and toy with the jewellery with his tongue. He forces his eyes back up Potter’s face and tries to subtly clear his throat to ask the only thing not related to Potter’s lips that comes to his mind. “Tattoos?”

Potter hums in confirmation. “I have six,” he says. “You’ve seen the one on my lower arm, that one I got when I decided on this as a career path.” Potter gestures to the room they’re in before he continues. “This one,” he starts, pulling the hem of his shirt up and his dark muggle jeans down a few centimetres on his right side. Draco stares at the inked flesh Potter just revealed. It’s a bouquet of lilies, the stems disappearing under the hem of Potter’s trousers. Draco gets the overwhelming urge to reach out and touch the lines of the tattoo.

He represses the urge.

Though he manages not to go through with the urge to touch, his mind still lingers on the exposed skin, wondering if the lines of the tattoo were bumpy or felt no different than the rest of his skin.

It takes him a moment to notice that Potter is still talking.

“...for my mom. That’s why it’s my only Muggle tattoo.”

Draco hopes that he hasn’t missed anything important. Or at least that Potter didn’t notice Draco getting lost in thoughts of touching his tattoo. Bloody Hell.

Draco opens his mouth to say something about the artwork being very nice before he’s interrupted by the Floo roaring.

“Harry! I didn’t know you’d still be here!” Luna Lovegood steps out of the Floo, brushing off excess Floo powder off her dark blue cargo pants. “I just stopped by because,” she starts before her eyes land on Draco. “Oh! Draco! You’re here too!”

Her eyes move towards the still lifted hem of Potter’s shirt. “Oh!” She says, her eyes widening. “Oh no, I’m not interrupting anything, am I?” Potter straightens his shirt out and Draco scrambles back, putting distance between himself and Potter.

Draco clears his throat. “Hello, Lovegood. There is nothing to be interrupted. Potter was just showing me his snake,” he says, immediately noticing how bad that sounded with a grimace.

“Malfoy needed someone that knew about and had access to snakes for a patient of his,” Potter explains. “So I just introduced him to Nymph. And then we got talking about tattoos and… yeah.”

“Oh, that’s nice!” Luna exclaims in her usual dreamy voice. Draco is amazed at how little she’s changed since the last time he’s seen her all those years ago, when he apologized to her for all that she went through in The Manor’s cellars.

“Why did you say you had to stop by, Luna?” Potter says, picking Nymph up from the counter and placing her on his shoulder. The colour of the reptile somehow both clashing against and complementing Potter’s green shirt.

Draco stops listening to Lovegood and Potter babble about snakes, in favour of watching Potter and his muscular tanned arms as Nymph slithers down his arm and rests her head on his hand. Draco’s eyes follow as Potter absentmindedly strokes Nymph’s head with his thumb.

Draco clears his throat and looks away for a second before locking eyes with Potter, and then staring pointedly at his wristwatch. “It’s getting rather late. I ought to get going, I believe you promised me a piece of snakeskin, Potter.”

“Oh, right, of course,” he says, looking slightly taken aback, and walks behind the counter. He produces a transparent, grey tube almost double the size of Nymph.

"You said we could cut a part of it?" Draco says though it sounds more like a question than a statement like Draco meant for it to. "Nymph is a rather large snake, I don't think the full-sized skin would be a good idea for my client yet."

Potter doesn't respond, instead pulls his wand out of his pocket and casts a _Diffindo_ on the skin, tracing the shape of a rectangle no larger than a muggle banknote. Draco reaches for the skin the moment Potter finishes casting. So does Potter. Their fingers brush before Draco quickly snatches the piece of snakeskin and pulls his hand away.

“Goodbye, Potter.” Draco gives him a curt nod. “Lovegood,” he adds turning slightly towards her.

With that, he turns on his heels and storms out of the store, and apparates home the moment he’s out the door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HL 2  
Malfoy,  
I believe it is correct etiquette to respond to one’s owl, especially if it is to make plans involving that person.  
Are you coming?  
Harry  
PS: If you are coming, you can just come through The Floo using the address I gave you in my  
previous letter. If you have a Floo connection. Do you have a Floo connection?
> 
> PSS: Earl will start pecking at your hand if you don’t feed him an owl treat. It’ll start soft but if you ignore him… Also, he won’t stop until you give him one. He likes the ones shaped like squirrels if you got ‘em.
> 
> DL 2  
Didn’t know you cared about proper etiquette, Potter. Actually, I don’t believe I ever even heard the word etiquette come out of your mouth.  
I wouldn’t have pegged you for someone that watched the window waiting on a response. Not from me at least.  
Don’t get your knickers in a twist. Potter, my last clients left five minutes ago. I’ll be there.  
D. Malfoy  
PS: I work at a Muggle counselling clinic you utter twat. You can’t just send me owls, what if I’d had clients in the office with me? This also means that no, dimwit, I don’t have a Floo connection at my workplace.  
PPS: It’s post post scriptum NOT post scriptum scriptum


	3. Chapter 3

🐍HARRY🐍

Harry stares at the letter on his desk, the one that has been there since noon yesterday. He doesn’t really know why he hasn’t responded yet. He doesn’t think he’d mind it, working with Malfoy. He seemed like a lot less of a git when Harry saw him almost two weeks ago. Though it still is a bit weird, isn’t it? The concept of working with Malfoy, in a professional setting, when their last interaction had been after Malfoy’s trials when Harry gave Malfoy his wand back and Malfoy lashed out at him about not being able to use it anyway. Though the hostility Harry had grown accustomed to over the years at Hogwarts was nowhere to be found in the Draco Malfoy that was at his store asking for his help.

The weird thing is, Harry knows that he’s going to accept Draco’s offer; he wants to help. It’s just the confirming bit that he’s having trouble with, Merlin knows why. Harry glances at the clock on his wall, with the hands almost at half 18. Just then, he feels Nymph crawling up his arm from the counter.

_“The pale one makes you nervous,” _she notes, once close enough to Harry’s ear._ “You’ve been looking at the paper he sent since yesterday.”_

_“He doesn’t make me nervous,” _Harry responds.

_“Uneasy, then.”_

_“We just have a complicated history.”_

_“Ex-boyfriend?” _she questions, catching Harry off-guard, which causes him to start coughing violently.

_“NO!” _he hisses loudly, once his coughing subsides. _“No, we weren’t very nice to each other in school. We were quite terrible, really.”_

_“But you want him,” _she says, leaning over his shoulder to face him._ “I could smell it on you.”_

Harry clears his throat and tells her that he was never involved with Malfoy in that way, again, neither denying nor confirming his attraction to him. _“I just don’t know if working with him is the best idea, is all.” _When Nymph doesn’t respond, Harry urges Nymph further along his shoulder and out of his face. He walks out front with a sigh and taps the ‘Open, come on in!’ sign on the door, changing it to ‘Sorry, we’re closed!’. He puts the wards back up with a flick of his wand before walking to the back room to Floo back home.

_“Ready?”_ he asks Nymph, grabbing some Floo powder.

Nymph lays her head flat on Harry’s shoulder in approval. Right as the green flames engulf them, Harry thinks he hears Nymph say _“I could smell it on him too.”_

🐍🐍🐍

Half an hour later, Harry’s already called the number Malfoy gave him for the reception, chatted with a kind lady named Adelaide who told him Mr Malfoy had been waiting for Harry to call and that she was glad Harry did call because she hadn’t seen Draco that anxious since he first applied to intern there. With that done, and his ‘deadline’ already passed, Harry decides to write Malfoy a letter and apologize for any inconvenience the delay in Harry’s response might have caused him.

He summons some parchment and a quill from his desk, startling Nymph who was asleep on the coffee table in front of him and gets to writing.

He calls for Earl and sends him on his way after telling him to wait until Malfoy leaves his office if he is still there. He watches Earl fly out the window with the small parchment tied around his leg and a treat in his mouth.

🐍🐍🐍

Malfoy’s response comes with Earl sooner than Harry expects it to.

Harry rolls his eyes and considers not telling Malfoy at all and letting him wonder if Harry will show up or not until the last second just to spite him. He decides not to respond to Malfoy’s owl, choosing to lean back and watch some telly instead.

🐍🐍🐍

Tuesday comes by quickly and before Harry knows it, he’s at the reserve, coaxing a 3-month-old smooth green snake named Andie into his carrier.

_ “Where are we going?”_ Andie asks, tilting his head in distaste at the carrier.

_“We’re visiting… friends,” _Harry replies, hesitating.

_“You don’t sound sure.”_

Harry wonders why he had to choose the sassiest animals on earth as a career. Why not owls, or crups, or even kneazles?

_“We’re visiting friends,”_ Harry repeats, this time making sure to sound more confident than he felt. _“And I need you to be on your best behaviour. My friends think snakes are scary, And they don’t know that I speak your language so I’m also not going to be able to talk to you much. I’m trying to show them you’re not as scary as they think you are and you need to help me out.”_

_“Your friends are cowards,” Andie says, slowly slithering toward the cage. “What do I get from behaving?”_

Harry groans, realizing he made a mistake with his choice of a younger snake. He wishes he went with Hestia, the four-year-old ring-necked snake, instead, seeing as she’s only a couple inches bigger than Andie._ Well, it’s too late now,_ he thinks to himself upon casting a wandless _Tempus_. He has less than ten minutes to get Andie in this bloody carrier and show up at the clinic; _and_ he doesn’t really know how to get there, past figuring out the nearest apparition point that morning.

_“I’ll give you an extra spider tonight and two treats when we get back.”_

_“Make it two extra spiders and three treats and I’m in,” _Andie bargains.

_“One extra spider and three treats.” _

_“Deal,” _Andie says and goes into the carrier with ease. As if Harry hasn’t been trying for so long.

🐍🐍🐍

Getting from the apparition point to the clinic proves to be harder than Harry thought it would be. The streets are much too crowded for this time of the day and people are either paying so little attention to him that they just about knock Andie out from Harry’s hand or staring and pointing.

When he finally makes it to the building it’s already ten past two and he can just see the sneer on Malfoy’s face as he chastises Harry about the importance of timeliness and how he shouldn’t have expected better from someone who had been raised by Muggles.

What Harry sees instead, when he walks out the lift, is Malfoy leaning against the front counter, laughing softly with an older woman with grey curly hair and a kind face. His almost white hair is loose around his face, longer than it had been at Hogwarts but not long enough to resemble his father, and he’s wearing gold wire frame glasses. It catches Harry off-guard, despite him having seen Malfoy––albeit without the glasses––recently.

“You wear glasses?” Harry asks before he can stop himself.

“Oh, Potter, good, you’re here,” Malfoy says, meeting Harry’s gaze. “I believe you’ve talked to Adelaide over the phone.”

“Hello, dear, nice to meet you.” Adelaide smiles.

“Uh, hi, nice to meet you too.” Harry turns to Malfoy and walks closer. “Sorry I’m late, Malfoy.”

“I figured you might be, Sky’s appointment is not until half-past. I can show you my office if you follow me, and you can set up anything you need to.”

Malfoy eyes Andie’s carrier, seeming a little wary.

“Hey, Malfoy,” Harry starts as they walk past multiple closed doors. He knows he shouldn’t pry but he can’t help himself. “Isn’t it a bit weird that you’re treating this patient from their fear of snakes, and you’re also afraid of snakes?”

Malfoy stops dead in his tracks and turns back to face Harry in one fluid motion. “I’m not afraid, Potter. I just find them _unsettling_. It’s a completely rational reaction to have when you had to watch a giant snake of a madman that was living in your house, devour innocent people almost every day for two whole years.”

“Shit, Malfoy, sorry,” Harry says, feeling a little ashamed when Malfoy turns back and takes a couple more steps before stopping in front of a door.

“This is my office, do try not to break anything,” Malfoy says, ignoring Harry’s apology, which Harry thinks is fair. Though despite his better judgment, he can’t keep his stupid mouth shut.

“You know, snakes used to remind me of Voldemort too,” he says, wincing. He walks to one of the armchairs and sets the carrier down on the side table before plopping down on the chair. Malfoy stays standing by the now closed door. “This isn’t really common knowledge but I used to get visions of what he was doing, sometimes through his eyes and sometimes through Nagini’s. To say it was unsettling would be a severe understatement.”

When Malfoy remains silent, Harry continues. “I actually saw you through his eyes a couple of times.”

This makes Malfoy snap his head up to look at Harry with disbelief and pain. “Would you kindly fucking stop, Potter? I would really rather not hear about you seeing me being forced to torture people or whatever horrible things you saw through _his _eyes. It’s been ages since the war, some of us would prefer to leave it in the past, thanks,” he says before muttering, “Merlin, I never should have contacted you,” under his breath.

Harry frowns and rubs the back of his neck sheepishly. “Sorry.”

_“The pale one is angry?” _Andie pipes up from his carrier.

_“Yes.”_

_ “Why?”_

_ “I was being an idiot,” _Harry responds, keeping an eye on Malfoy to judge his discomfort at his use of parseltongue. Noting the way Malfoy is standing stiff and tall, faced away from Harry, he lowers his voice.

_“But that’s nothing new,”_ Andie says. _“Shouldn’t he be used to your stupidity if he’s your friend?” _

Harry doesn’t respond, choosing to look away instead, so Andie changes the subject.

_“Will you let me out? It’s awfully cramped in here.”_

At this, Harry looks up at Malfoy, immediately meeting his gaze. “Can I let him out? He’s a lot more likely to behave if he’s not annoyed.”

Malfoy makes a dismissive gesture, which Harry takes to mean yes. So Harry waves his hand to cast a wandless _Alohamora_ on the carrier.

_“You need to stay close to me and not make sudden movements, okay?” _Harry tells Andie, coaxing him onto his shoulder.

“I think it would be best to have the snake in its cage at the start of the appointment, so in about 10 minutes you should put it back while I go fetch Sky.”

“Yes, of course, though it is merely a carrier, Malfoy, I don’t keep them in cages.”

“Same difference,” Malfoy mutters. “Would you care for some tea?”

“Yes, that would be great.”

Malfoy heads outside, leaving Harry alone, save for Andie. In Malfoy’s absence, Harry starts looking around with Andie occasionally lifting his head to peek around. He walks over to Malfoy’s desk that matches the dark wood of the door. There is a leather cover planner and a gold pen next to it, which upon further inspection Harry realizes is engraved with Malfoy’s initials. There are framed (muggle) photographs of him with Narcissa Malfoy and another with a woman with black hair that Harry thinks is familiar but can’t name.

Just as Harry takes the photograph to look more closely, the door opens and Malfoy comes in with a tray containing their tea.

“I see you still like to snoop, Potter.” Malfoy fixes Harry with a subtle glare, though Harry thinks he looks a little silly because his glasses are sitting low on his nose and his white-blond hair is in his face, so the glare is probably not as effective as Malfoy would like.

Harry holds back a laugh, and puts back the picture frame, apologizing in the process. “Girlfriend?” he inquires, his curiosity getting the best of him.

“Oh, Merlin, no. You don’t recognize her? It’s Pansy,” he says, setting down the tray on the desk. “Though I suppose she looks quite a bit different now.” He combs his hands through his hair, getting it out of his face and pushes his glasses back up his nose.

_“Are you sure you’re friends?” _Andie pipes up. _“You don’t act like friends.” _

Harry ignores him.

“Yeah, she does,” Harry says. Now that he has a name to go with the face he remembers Parkinson, though, “Did her nose always look like that?”

Malfoy snickers. “No, she got it magically adjusted.”

Harry reaches for the milk on the tray, putting some in his tea and takes a sip after he deems it milky enough.

“I should put Andie back,” he says, to fill the not-so-comfortable silence, after a while of them standing by Draco’s desk, sipping at their tea.

“Might be a good idea, I’ll see if Sky’s in the waiting room.”

🐍🐍🐍

The first half of the session goes well enough, Harry thinks. Not that he’s exactly an authority on therapy. Although very obviously uncomfortable, they at least seem to be intrigued by Andie and interested in what Harry is saying about him. And Andie has been unexpectedly well behaved that Harry is considering actually giving him two extra spiders instead of one like he wanted, though he really shouldn’t be enabling his overeating.

“Smooth green snakes are one of the least aggressive breeds and in the face of a threat, they will almost always choose flight instead of fight. I can remove him from the carrier if you would like to take a closer look. He’s quite well behaved, so I should have no problem keeping him from moving much.” Harry turns to look at Malfoy for his approval once he’s done addressing Sky.

“You’re already doing very well, so we can leave that for another day if you want Sky. This all needs to go at your pace. But two weeks ago you wouldn’t have been able to even be in the same room as Andie.”

This is the other thing, it feels so out of the ordinary to see Malfoy being so nice and encouraging with anyone, let alone a muggle. Harry knows he should’ve been expecting it, this is his _job _after all, but it’s still shocking to him.

Sky takes a deep breath, looking from Harry to Malfoy to Andie. “Okay, do it.”

Harry turns to Andie and mutters under his breath. _“Thanks, buddy, you’re doing really well. I’m going to let you out now so I need you to keep this up and ONLY stay on me, okay?”_

_“Yes, yes, okay, I know.”_

“Okay, Sky, I want you to look at Andie and tell me three positive things about him if you can.”

Sky takes a tentative step closer. “Um, I really like the colour. It’s a very nice bright green.”

“I agree,” Draco says. “Go on.”

Sky leans in closer to leave about half a metre between them and Harry. “He kind of has a derpy look to him, doesn’t he? Like his eyes are too big and round for how slender he is.”

Harry and Draco let out simultaneous laughs making Andie look up at Harry, curious about what just happened.

_“What are you laughing at?” _

Harry ignores him.

“I’m not sure whether that really counts as a positive remark but I’ll allow it,” Draco says, his silver eyes twinkling.

“Uh, he’s small and not really moving much? And that’s good because it doesn’t make me feel as terrified.”

“Very good, Sky,” Malfoy says, before turning to Harry. “P- Harry, uh we have about 20 minutes left in our session, so you are free to go at this point, as I would like to finish up with Sky privately.”

“Oh, yes, I’ll put Andie back and be on my way,” he says, trying not to dwell on Malfoy’s use of his first name. “Lovely meeting you Sky, I will most likely see you again in an upcoming session. That is, if M- _Draco _would require my assistance again.” The name doesn’t sound as weird coming from his mouth as Harry would expect really. It actually feels more _right_ than Malfoy has since they reconnected. The _Malfoy_ Harry knew was a snooty prick who thought he was superior to basically anyone. _Draco_ is… different.

“I just might, Harry.”

Harry slides Andie back in the carrier and walks up to the door, turning back to face Draco. “Oh, before I leave, is there anything good to eat around here? I’m starving.”

“There’s a cafe I often go to for lunch right around the corner.”

“Great thanks! I’ll check that out. Goodbye, Sky. Goodbye, Draco.”

“Cheers, Harry,” Sky says with an easy smile.

“Wait, um, I go on my lunch break right after I’m done with Sky here, we could grab lunch together if you wouldn’t mind waiting,” Draco offers with a pinkish hue to his cheeks.

“I think I might like that, Draco.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DL 3  
Potter,  
Upon careful consideration, I’ve come to the conclusion that it would be helpful for my client to hear about snakes from someone that actually knows about them and is passionate about them. Unfortunately, you are the only person. I know of that sort. I’ve already talked to my client and they have given me their consent about you potentially joining some of our sessions. Be advised, my client is a Muggle, as is my workplace so please be discreet if you have to use parseltongue during a session. I don’t know if my client would take kindly to a grown man hissing at a snake.  
Should you accept, you will be compensated for your time by the clinic. You may phone in to discuss payment with the accounting department of Oak Counselling at 020 7946 0852 ext 413. Should you wish to speak to me about this you can reach me at 020 7946 0852 ext 356 in between 13:00 - 14:00. If it is just to accept or reject my offer you can just call the front desk at 020 7946 0852 and Adelaide will take a message. Please let me know of your decision by 19:00 tomorrow, April 13th. DO NOT send an owl back. I have appointments all day.
> 
> D. Malfoy  
DRACO L MALFOY  
PSYCHOLOGIST  
OAK COUNSELLING
> 
> HL 3
> 
> Malfoy,  
I just got off the phone with Adelaide, I’m sorry for the delay, I’ll help you.  
Harry
> 
> DL 4
> 
> Potter,  
I told you not to send back an owl and you made your owl stalk me to my flat? Has no one ever taught you manners? I guess you were mostly timely with your call to Adelaide, though, so maybe someone taught you some manners.  
I will need you to join a session, Tuesday, April 19th 2016 at 2 pm, if you are able.  
DM
> 
> HL 4  
Malfoy,  
I will have to check with Luna about Tuesday but it should be okay, I’ll let you know by Friday.  
Harry
> 
> PS: I like the plants on your parchment, I would expect you to have the Malfoy family crest or something post and twatty like that. Not that having any design at all on your parchment isn’t posh enough.
> 
> DL 5
> 
> Potter,  
Let me know earlier if you can.  
DM

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading! Please support the author by clicking on the kudos button and leaving a comment below! ♥


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